Life is Never Easy
by Nata2011
Summary: Anne of Cleves was accustomed to obey. But one day she decided to take her fate into her own hands. AU
1. Chapter 1

(Inspired by season 3 finale and some fanfics here. It has nothing to do with history. I hugely apologize for any mistakes I may make, because English is not my native language.)

* * *

Today I've heard the amazing news! My dear Frau Martha said it to me, choking with emotion and in such a low voice that it was more like a whisper, as if to say it out loud meant to betray some state secret. It turns out that the ambassadors of the King of England who have been at our court these past two weeks came not only to conclude a trade treaty as we all thought. They are looking for a bride for their sovereign. And that means, that means ... My brother has two of us, two sisters, Amelia and me, but since I'm older then ... I usually listen to the chatter of my nanny with half an ear, but now I try not to miss a word. "His Highness gave an audience and a very long one", I hear. "Long audience" lasted perhaps five - ten minutes, because my brother thinks it's beneath his dignity to talk with anyone longer, no matter how important the people are. The portrait has been mentioned. When Herren Ambassadors heard that our artist is sick, they immediately offered to send a personal portraitist of King Henry himself. What to think about it?

"Portrait - this is serious", my Frau Martha says and looks at me significantly. Poor creature, she has almost lost hope to ever see me walking down the aisle. And no wonder, because I am already twenty-four. My maids of honor say it's because our father died too early and did not have time to betroth us. As for our brother, well, William is always occupied with the urgent matters of state. And in general it's very difficult to arrange a profitable royal marriage. But I know another reason why I am still not married. Nobody will tell it to me, but I know. I just need to look in the mirror and then turn my eyes, well, at least to the maid standing next to me. I am not very pretty. No, not ugly, God forbid, but I am not the most beautiful woman in the world. And for men, I know, it is very important. Although for the royalty the lack of beauty of the bride has never been an obstacle, just look at my stepmother and some other women of our kin.

"But why", I dare to ask, "is King Henry interested in us? Why not France and not any relatives of the Emperor?"

"Well", my nanny gently pats my arm, "surely he has his reasons. Where should a good protestant search for a bride if not in Germany?" Yes, of course, England broke with Rome like many in our land and it's only natural for us to seek an alliance. "And besides ...", Frau Martha suddenly becomes silent. I wait for her to continue, but she nervously fingers the hem of her dress. Then, seeing my bewilderment, she takes herself in hand and smiles. "My darling, my dear, dear child. Every day I pray Lord to send you happiness, how can He not hear my prayers at last?"

In the evening, left alone, I think it over and finally understand the meaning of her words. This King Henry, my supposed fiancé, doesn't have the best reputation. He has already buried three wives, and not all of them died from natural cause. Of course, Anne Boleyn cheated on him (the scandal was so tremendous that its echo came to our remote country and even penetrated into my chambers, secluded from the world!) So no one could blame the king that he ripped from his heart the love he felt for her and sent an adulteress to the scaffold. And yet. Few girls would agree to marry a killer of his wife, if they have the opportunity to choose. And what about me? What would be_ my_ answer? I just begin to think about it, but then suddenly come to myself and cannot help laughing. What do I imagine? As if someone will ever ask my opinion!

Tonight I couldn't fall asleep for a long time and when at last I managed, strange dreams came to me. I am sitting next to my brother in our throne hall and the ambassadors of His Majesty the King of England are slowly approaching us. They are kneeling and one of them, the most senior and important, says: "Your Highness, may I be permitted to ask the hand of your sister for my sovereign?" William looks at me and everybody in the room looks at me, but I sit solemnly on my throne and don't know what I should say. Suddenly I notice that it is not our modest chamber, but something much grander - Whitehall, the residence of the King of England - and I am surrounded by unfamiliar lords and ladies. They bow and curtsy to me. And then I see _him _- King Henry. I know it's him, though I have never seen him. Who else could have such a powerful profile, such a majestic posture, such a brilliant smile? "My lady", he says, his voice sounds like music to my ears, "my sweet lady!" And then everything disappears - the throne hall, the courtiers, the palace - we are alone in the garden near the fountain. The moon shines, the water is flowing, lovely music is played somewhere in the distance. And now not a powerful ruler, but a gentle lover is standing in front of me, a lover begging for a single glance. He takes my hand and almost whispers: "Dare I hope?" And when I am going to answer, a woman suddenly emerges from behind his back and then another and another. They are looking at me threateningly, they are ready to wither me, they are approaching me step by step. I am speechless, I have a cold sweat, I retreat to the fountain. And when I am about to fall into it, my nightmare is over. I wake up trembling. I know what my dream means and who these women were.


	2. Chapter 2

It is about three months since the Englishmen departed and still no hint of my marriage. Apparently, nothing will come from it. Well, maybe it's better. Frau Martha and I no longer speak about it, as if our conversation had never happened. Life has become routine again.

* * *

It appeared I was wrong giving up the idea of my "English marriage" (as I called it). Today brother has summoned Amelia and me to his private chamber and announced as solemnly as he only could: "Sisters, from tomorrow you both will be taking English lessons. I have hired the best teacher one can find. Maybe it happens that you'll have to use this knowledge". Amelia and I exchange glances. Of course, she's also heard about the courtship of King Henry. My sister is more spontaneous and while I mentally consider what I've just heard, she blurts out: "Willy, are we going to marry in England?" Brother looks at her coldly and doesn't grace with an answer. He only pronounces his usual "you will hear everything in _due time_" and then adds "study well". How I hate his pomposity! And does he still think we are little girls unworthy of serious talk? Yet he and Amelia are all that I have. They are my family. But, a thought suddenly comes to my mind, if (no, no, _when_) I get married, I will have another family, very different family.

* * *

The messengers of King Henry are here again. William decides it is time to introduce us, two girls of marriageable age, the cause of all this mess. However, his idea of what this introduction should look like is very peculiar. "Put on long veils and don't start the conversation", he instructs us. My brother especially insists on this part of the toilet. Protest is useless. "This English king is with eccentricity", I hear his puzzled remarks. "You see, he needs to get your portraits. Never mind, he'll have to be content with your dowry and my friendship". I understand the reason of such a behaviour of my usually so restrained brother. He does not want to look like a minor princeling, overjoyed by the signs of attention of a powerful monarch. He must maintain dignity. He must be treated as equal by the English King and make an impression on his ambassadors. The best way to achieve this is to be aloof.

When we appear before the English gentlemen, they become speechless. But not because of our beauty, but for another reason. We are so tightly wrapped in our robes that Turkish women would envy! Poor souls, they have to inform their sovereign what we look like, but William is clearly not going to facilitate their task. On the contrary, he is adding fuel to the fire. To their confused protests he vociferously asks: "What? Maybe you would like to see my sisters naked?" In my opinion, it is a little too much. One of the envoys dares to object: "But, Your Highness, we cannot even figure out who is who!" Then I decide to come to their rescue. "I am Anna", I say under my veil. "I am Amelia", my sister echoes me. The Englishmen turn their eyes from me to her, but it does not help them. Brother decides to put an end to this performance. He gives us a sign and we are leaving the hall.

In the evening William is still boiling. "Does he think my country is a meat market and you are whores?" It is about King Henry. I mentally argue with him that it's quite natural for a bridegroom to want to know how his future wife looks like. I also would like to ask somebody about my fiancé, but it's out of the question, of course. But can I consider myself betrothed? The king may be offended by such treatment of his envoys and refuse to deal with us. So before going to bed I pluck up courage and ask: "Tell me, William, what kind of response have you given the Englishmen?" I almost expect the usual rudeness and moralizing, but instead he looks at me as if seeing for the first time and then answers: "Sister, maybe before Christmas you'll become the Queen of England!"

* * *

My brother told me the truth. It is the first Christmas I don't spend at home. I am on the way to my new country, to England. I am the future Queen of England. The Queen… I repeat this word to myself, dozing under the creak of the wheels of my carriage, looking at the grey winter sky, combing my hair before a mirror. It caresses my ears, stirs my imagination and tickles my vanity, yes, I've discovered, I have vanity. I am soon-to-be Queen of England. Of course, this position means great responsibility and it won't be easy for me, especially at first. Well, it is my fate and I accept it.

I have not seen my future husband or any of his courtiers yet. Storm prevents us from crossing the Channel and we sit here at Calais and wait for the weather to change. Calais is an English territory so I can say that I am already at my new home, at my _kingdom. _My ladies are discouraged by this unexpected obstacle and say it's a bad omen. Bad omen? Why? Surely, such weather is usual for this time of year, isn't it? After all, I get the opportunity to rest a little and make myself familiar with my new role.

The Duke of Suffolk arrives at Calais to greet me. He is the first nobleman of England, and King Henry sends him to find out how I spent my journey and to welcome me on the English soil. The duke is very handsome and gallant man. He politely inquires about my welfare and notes with regret that we will have to stay here for another couple of days. My language is still poor, but I don't want to use the services of interpreters. Let the English see that, though I am a foreigner, I am determined to be like them. So in my accented English I invite my lord Suffolk to dine with me tonight. I want to know more about their customs.

"What does the king like to do?" We sit, surrounded by my ladies and gentlemen, and have a polite conversation. My face is still hidden by the veil and it disturbs his lordship a little. But he is too good a courtier to show that. "His Majesty likes to hunt, play cards, loves music and other pleasant pastimes". "And his court?" "Madam, you will see that our court is elegant and refined. Every day there are dances and other entertainments proper for people of our circle. You will not be disappointed". Music, dances, cards! Dear God, I don't know how to do any of these things! I will look like a black sheep. And the duke continues to depict me their elegance and sophistication. "His Majesty himself loves in his leisure hours to play the lute or compose a little sonnet. He is good at it, as well as Lady Mary, his eldest daughter". I suddenly imagine William, holding a lute and singing falsetto a love ballad, while Amelia and I joining him. It is so funny that with great difficulty I restrain a laughter. My lord may think that I am laughing at him or, God forbid, at the king.

"I think, only men play cards in my country", I say as if apologetically. "Maybe, Your Grace will tell me the rules?" At least, to play cards I am able to learn!

"If you're not lucky, you will have to part with money", the duke notes, teaching me the game. "But it does not matter, when you have them, you can afford to lose a little." There is one question I am dying to ask. At last, I pluck up courage. "Does the king always win?" My lord Suffolk loses the power of speech for a moment. He tries to look through my veil to understand the hidden meaning of my question. Not succeeding in this, he takes the challenge. "Madam, His Majesty does not like losing. And finally he gets what he wants."


	3. Chapter 3

My procession is slowly moving to London. The people from all over the country come running to look at our cortege and at me, their future Queen. I smile amiably and bow my head in all directions. I like their greetings, their affection, at home I rarely had the opportunity to enjoy the love of crowd. The Duke of Suffolk has gone ahead to report to the King of his mission. I am accompanied by Herr Erleken, our ambassador in this kingdom. He informs me about the schedule of celebrations in honor of my wedding and the details of court etiquette which I should know. I am glad that in this country I have a friend who will always watch over my interests.

* * *

"His Majesty the King wishes to pay his respects to Your Highness." "His Majesty the King." I hear these words, but don't understand them. The King wants to see me? But how is it possible if he is in London? "Madame, His Majesty could not wait for an hour of your meeting and wanted to welcome you personally." Finally I realize – the king is here, next to my rooms, he is coming. My God, I am not ready to receive him! I thought, no, I was sure that there existed the whole ritual of our introduction to each other. That on the eve of this important event my maids would spend several hours doing my hair and choosing the right toilet, that at our greeting we would be surrounded by the nobles of the realm, that the strict rules of etiquette would help us to overcome the natural awkwardness of the first meeting. Instead I am dressed in the most simple way imaginable, and in the chambers with me there is only our ambassador and a few ladies. I throw a panic glance at Herr Erleken, but he is bewildered no less than I am. However we do not have time even for surprise. The door opens and the king enters.

He is not like the man I imagined in my dream. He is shorter and not so majestic. If I met him somewhere, I couldn't guess who he was. Though, no. There is something in his look that attracts attention. Imperiousness. Confidence in his right to ... right to what? "His Majesty always gets what he wants" - the words of my lord Suffolk come to my mind. The king hurries to me but then suddenly stops as though meeting with an unexpected obstacle. The smile fades from his face, he silently stares at me. I am paralyzed under his gaze, all English greetings fly out of my head. Once again I turn for support to Mr. Erleken, but he just nods his head - yes, it's true, this is your future husband. Then I finally come to myself and do the right thing. I make a deep curtsy to my sovereign. Now he should raise me and say a few suitable words.

But he doesn't hurry to do it. I can almost physically feel everybody's awkwardness. Eventually the king copes with his confusion and gives me a hand. I wait what will happen next. Should I greet him? No, I must not speak first. And then I lose the power of speech once and for all. The king takes my face in his hands and kisses, kisses my lips. That's what married people do, but we are not husband and wife yet. And I can't see that he is burning with passion. More agonizing minutes pass, and at last he speaks to me: "Madam, I am here to welcome you in my realm. I trust you are comfortable here before your… journey to London?" "Thank you, Your Majesty, you are so kind…", I murmur. "I will see you soon". And with these words he leaves my chambers. He goes away so fast, as though I wanted to kill him.

"I should have taken more lessons from the Duke. English manners are very different from ours." I don't even notice that I am saying it aloud.

* * *

I am not satisfied with myself, with the way I've behaved with His Majesty. Something has gone wrong and all because of my awkwardness. If only I had more time to prepare, to collect my thoughts! If only his visit had not caught me by surprise! I've looked and behaved like a provincial fool. Mumbled something under my breath, couldn't keep up the conversation. Of course, he is disappointed. As though it's not enough that God has not given me beauty, my manners too leave much to be desired. A refined, sophisticated lady of English court, a woman of the world, would have acted differently! She would have inquired politely about his well-being, remarked how happy she was to meet him at last, offered a glass of wine or something else instead of standing like a pillar. And he wouldn't run away from her as if from a plague. Oh dear God, what will happen now? But I hope I'll be able to mend an unfavorable impression I have produced. After all, I am a newcomer here and the King _must_ understand it.

* * *

Today is the day of my formal presentation to court, and I am determined to make no mistakes anymore. Court ceremony is quite a different matter and here I feel at ease. Trumpets are sounded, the heralds proclaim my name, and I solemnly enter the throne room. All bow their heads in homage to me, and my husband (I do have a right to call him so?) descends from his throne to greet me. Nothing in him shows his displeasure. On the contrary, he smiles kindly and kisses me again. I sigh with relief and smile back at him.

Everything goes properly. The nervousness slightly lets me go and I look around. With the exception of the Duke of Suffolk I know nobody here, but I have no doubt that all the nobility of the kingdom has gathered in Whitehall today. Behind polite manners they hide a burning curiosity: what does their new Queen look like? One lord particularly attracts my attention. He stands slightly apart from everyone, right next to the throne and watches me closely. Surely this is the chief royal councilor or someone like that. For some reason he is very nervous, so even from such a distance I can feel his discomfort. Of course, he has already got a report how stupid I was at my meeting with His Majesty and he is afraid that I can do something wrong again and disgrace myself even more. Well, you need not worry, my lord how are you called, I am not a country girl and know the rules of etiquette. To tell the truth, no court has such strict etiquette as my brother's. So I straighten my shoulders and raise my head to look even more impressive.

Meanwhile, the King's daughters - Lady Mary and Lady Elizabeth – are presented to me. Princess Mary is a girl of my age, very beautiful and graceful. Her manners are perfect but rather cool. She is obviously not very happy to meet with her new stepmother. But Elizabeth is a pearl. I've never seen such a lovely child. And she hands me a bouquet of flowers, how nice. "I'm sure I will love them both", I say smiling to the King. I try to please him, but I really mean it. I want them to accept me, to become attached to me. With Elizabeth, I am sure, I will have no problems, she already demonstrates her affection. But as for Mary, I'll have to do my best to win her sympathy. Well, this is my family now, right?

His Majesty and I go to the throne, holding hands, and everybody in the room applauds us.

* * *

I talk with Mr. Erleken in my apartments. I have many questions to ask and don't give him time even to breathe, poor man. I am still excited by this evening and so I don't immediately notice that my companion is a little uneasy. But I choose not to pay attention to certain things. I don't want anything to darken my mood. And what's more important, I'm afraid to ask the main question - what are the feelings of the King towards me, with what heart will he go to the altar in a few days. In any case, it is the only question I won't get an answer.

"Both the king's daughters live in their country residences most of time", His Excellency says. "They have arrived to Your Highness's wedding and after the celebrations will leave the court".

I'm a little upset to hear this. I've hoped to spend more time with my stepdaughters, to get to know them better. However if there are such rules, who am I to change them?

I'd like to find out who has the greatest influence at this court, to whom the King listens. "Who was that gentleman who stood next to the throne, that one in black robes?" I ask casually.

"Lord Cromwell, of course". I hear surprise in the voice of His Excellency, how can I not know such obvious things! But then, remembering that, unlike him, I've just arrived in this country, and at home no one was eager to inform me about the peculiarities of English politics, he gives me necessary explanations. "He is the first minister of His Majesty, Lord Privy Seal, he stands behind all the important decisions the King makes". I guessed right! "Even the marriage of Your Highness is largely Lord Cromwell's doing. He insists on the necessity for England to make an alliance with the Protestant countries to counterbalance France and Spain".

"So, he is our friend, isn't he?" I make a logical conclusion. "Yes, of course", Mr. Erleken hesitates a little. "But I would like to warn Your Highness against excessive trustfulness. Politics does not know friends, only temporary allies. As for Lord Cromwell, he has already demonstrated his ability to change friends. And the only ally he never betrays is Lord Cromwell himself."

So, I am warned. But I'm not going to meddle in their intrigues, God forbid. The queen must not join any political faction, she should stand above court struggle. She has responsibilities of another kind. And if the king loves me, why should I care about all the politicians of the world? If the king loves me…

* * *

I cannot deceive myself longer. The king feels repulsion towards me. What else can explain his behaviour? He doesn't like me, it's obvious. He has already regretted that he is engaged to me. I did not expect passionate love on his part, it's nonsense, it does not happen in real life. But… But the look he gives me during our meetings is more eloquent than any speech. What's wrong with me? I haven't said a few words to him, we haven't spent a moment in private, but he has already made his opinion about me. What shall I do now? And what do _I_ feel towards him? As for the latter, I have no doubt. From our first meeting I feel incredible fear of him. I try to suppress this humiliating emotion, but it returns again and again and deprives me of the last vestiges of self-confidence. I recall all gossips I've ever heard about this man, about his bursts of fury, about the executions of those who had once been close to him. Certainly, every prince demonstrates his power to the subjects, but not every one sends his friends to the scaffold. And I agreed to marry this man! Voluntary gave myself at his mercy! Of course, I remind myself, nobody asked my consent, but I could at least _try_ to protest, speak with my brother, fall on knees before him, begging to save me from this fate. But it didn't even occur to me! I was so absorbed by the changes in my life, so excited by the opportunity to escape from home prison at last, to get rid of those compassionate looks – "poor girl, maybe she is destined to remain an old maid" – that I didn't think about the possible consequences of this choice. And in any case, it occurs to me now, we didn't have this choice. Someone more powerful decided that I was a suitable candidate for a role of His Majesty's bride and my fate was sealed. God save me.

I am standing in the royal chapel and saying my marriage vows. How often in my dreams I imagined this day, depicted it in all details, asked myself when it finally would become a reality. Now I'm only glad that none of my family is present at my wedding. All of them stayed in Germany, Amelia, my dear nurse, my friends. None of them can see my humiliation. Of course, all decorum is observed, the court sparkles with luxury, but how heavy my heart is. And not only mine. The King stands black as a cloud, and his lords look as though they had come to a funeral. Many of them exchange glances, grin, make hints, the meaning of which I cannot understand. And this is my wedding, the most important event in the life of any girl? I don't want to be here, I want to go home! I nearly say these words to the Archbishop, when he asks whether I agree to marry the King of England.


	4. Chapter 4

He looks at me appraisingly, the man with whom a few hours ago I connected my fate forever. We are left alone for the first time and we haven't said a word to each other yet. His gaze penetrates through the folds of blankets, through my long night-gown, gets to the secret parts of my body. He seems to undress me, yes, that's the right word. And although I am tightly clothed, I feel as if I'm lying naked in front of him. There is such a silence which probably has not been from the date of creation of the world, unbearable, sticky silence. Now he will do what all husbands do to their wives. I know it, I am ready for it. But he is not rushing to claim his rights on me. He is watching and watching, as if unable to decide whether it is worth to deal with me at all. I can no longer cope with the nervousness and swallow, uttering a strange sound, something between a groan and a wheeze. It sets him in motion. He puts a hand on my gown and begins to unbutton it slowly, very slowly. His fingers are so close to my heart, does he hear its beating? When his hands touch my bare skin, I shiver. They are so cold, almost icy. His fingers run on my breasts, abdomen, go down, lower and lower. So that's what you feel when a man's hand touches you. There is no tenderness in this, it even hurts. Doesn't he notice that he hurts me? No, he keeps on pinching me, roughly, almost with a fury, speeding up the pace. And then he suddenly stops and withdraws his hand. There is such an expression on his face as if he had just stumbled upon a slug or something equally disgusting. Just like then, at our first meeting, when he almost ran into my room and stopped thunderstruck. And by the way, what smell pursues me since I went to bed? At first I thought that the servants had carelessly cleaned our rooms or it was some kind of the local herbs exhaling such an aroma. I was already going to say tomorrow that I wouldn't tolerate such things. But now I look askance at the man, sharing the bed with me, and realize with horror that this smell comes from the sores on his leg, awful, non-healing wounds. What, shall I have to breathe this stink every night from today? Of course, I am his wife now. And his face still conveys the feeling of disgust. That's enough! Not realizing what I am doing I move aside from him to the edge of the bed. The only thing I need now is a breath of fresh air. I'll faint, if I don't get it. I turn to the other side, back to my husband, and by some sixth sense see that he does the same.

* * *

The next morning I slowly come to myself. No matter how little I know about such things, one thing I know for sure. The king has not made me his wife. He did not want to make me his wife. I arouse his aversion. Frankly speaking (alone with my thoughts I venture on this boldness), he is not very attractive himself, certainly not a prince charming from girls' dreams. But I would have submitted to him, endured his touches, as a good wife should do. That's what I've been taught, what I've heard since childhood. Let the wife submit to her husband. This is the order of things established by God. Yes, but what if her obedience is not required, if this husband shows no interest in her at all? In my heart I'm not particularly surprised by what's happened. I knew it would be this way, knew I couldn't awake love or even interest in a man. Any man. All worries, all fears which have settled in my soul since the day I first realized that I was no longer a child but a girl ready to share the marriage bed, now speak loudly with me. I have nearly crossed that line after which a girl of marriageable age becomes an old maid, and now, finally, someone has shown interest in me. And no matter that this man has already been married three times before me, that his interest was purely political in nature, that perhaps it was not the most suitable match for me. Anyway, I got a chance to have a family, to become like everyone else. And from the first hour of our life together my husband made me understand that I am not like everyone else.

Suddenly I realize with despair how lonely I am here. I have nobody to rely on, to tell about my fears, to ask for advice. Of course, now I have a staff of servants, maids of honor, chaplains, even jugglers and musicians. I have my own court as it's appropriate for the Queen of England. Hundreds of people are specially selected to carry out any of my fancy, to anticipate the slightest desire. All of them are ready to serve me in hope of favour and reward. But all this does not count. And they bow not to me, but to my crown.

The maids do my bed, bring fresh flowers instead of the old ones, already faded (rather short-lived my wedding bouquets appeared to be). I choose the toilet in which I'll appear before the court today, examine my new jewelry, express my consent with a nod, yes, this necklace suits the color of my dress, yes, those shoes with buckles is just what I need. Do they know? And if not, maybe suspect? What does their silence hide - deference to their mistress or secret sympathy? Or contempt? Whatever it is, I'd rather die than betray my secret.

Lady Bryan presents me my new ladies-in-waiting, noble dames and damsels of the realm, who from today will be accompanying me everywhere. Their very look shows what a great honor it is for them - to be here, in my company, to breathe the same air with me. Of course, now I'm the first lady in this country. I must always remind myself about it, because actually I feel no superiority over them. Lady Bryan is the dignity itself, it seems that court manners she took with her mother's milk. And she looks so reliable, so confident, so… competent, she knows what and how to do in any situation. For a moment I feel the temptation to talk frankly with her, ask for advice. But then I stop myself. Time for childish confessions is over. Mister Erleken had a reason to warn me against excessive trustfulness. He knew what he said. These courtiers are constantly plotting against each other, everyone has a knife in his bosom. All my ladies probably belong to some of these damned factions. No, I will not be so naive to let them feel superior to me. I will not let anyone discover my weakness. Better put aside these gloomy thoughts, pull myself together. Where has it only gone, my determination to get used to my new role as quickly as possible?

I smile kindly at my ladies-in-waiting and repeat to myself their names to memorize them more quickly. "Lady Rochford, Your Majesty". A tall, blonde woman curtseys to me. Rochford? Once somewhere I heard this title. "The widow of George Boleyn", says Lady Bryan. That one who was executed with his sister for the most terrible of all possible sins? This woman was his wife, and now she is here again to serve me, as she once served that, another Anne. I cannot help but look at Lady Bryan. She feels my unspoken question and answers it with a nod. Then, when Lady Rochford walks away to the far corner of the room, she imperceptibly inclines to me and says in a low voice: "Beware of this woman, Madame." Well, at least one thing is clear, mistress Boleyn is not the kind of person you can rely on. She is not my friend. And who, I wonder, is my friend here?

* * *

"Lord Cromwell asks for an audience, Your Majesty." I flinch a little, hearing this name. Mr. Erleken said that he is the most influential person in the country after the King. And besides he said that I am here thanks mainly to his efforts. Well, if so, I must permit this audience, at least to express my gratitude and secure the support. With a look I give my consent, and my lord Cromwell enters my rooms.

I am a little surprised, when he suggests talking privately. Hence, it is not a simple courtesy visit, he wants to tell me something important. Bad feelings overcome me. I foresee that our conversation will not be pleasant to me. For some reason, I am a little confused in the presence of this important and serious man. My God, when will I get rid of this damned shyness? When will I become to feel as a real queen?

But Mister Cromwell seems to be uncomfortable as well. He gives me a smile (rather insincere, I must say) and finally gets down to business. "Madame, I have come to you on a delicate matter. I must warn you against antagonizing the King. Under any circumstances you shouldn't try to oppose His Majesty or go against his will. On the contrary, you must do your utmost to make yourself agreeable to him."

What do I hear? I've tried to oppose the king? Showed him disobedience? Where? When? Such things haven't entered my mind even for a moment! In astonishment I look at my interlocutor. "My lord, I am not sure how I have given his majesty offence", I start talking, but the words perish on my lips. Suddenly I understand what he means. This man knows everything. Knows about my shame, humiliation, knows how my first marriage night has ended. The king has told him. Of course, he is his trusted adviser. And who knows, in what expressions, with what details? My God, what a shame! I wish the earth would open beneath my feet. With an incredible effort of will I suppress the tears coming to my eyes. If in addition to all this I start crying, it will be the end, complete and final failure.

Meantime Cromwell continues to speak how important this marriage is for both of us, for him and for me, that we are allies now and I must do everything in my power so that the king will be pleased with his new spouse. And gradually anger is rising deep inside me. Anger against the king who has treated me in such a way, against my brother who seemed to await an opportunity to sell me off, but above all against this man who has assumed the right to determine my fate and now as a reward demands something from me. Why do they all think it's my fault that from the beginning everything has gone wrong? God knows, I'd like to do my utmost. And I wanted, yes, wanted to please His Majesty. But nobody told me how to do it. And now he hates me, although I don't know why. But the worst thing is that this stranger knows my secret.

"If Your Majesty were to find yourself quick with child ..." Obviously, there was something in my look that has made him stop. "I am sorry to talk of such intimate matters, but you are the Queen of England now, you have nothing private anymore."

I can no longer restrain myself. Never in my life have I experienced anything like this. I need to speak out or I'll lose my mind. But what in the name of God can I say? And before I can even slightly think about the consequences of my confession, I burst out: "How can I find out that I am with child if the king has left me a maid. I'm not the Virgin Mary". He is not very surprised to hear it. He knew. The words continue to escape from my lips before I can hold them. "I will do everything to please his majesty. But once you say that I have nothing private then I answer - it's not very pleasing. And his leg, it smells so terribly, awful, it stinks, it's disgusting. Do you understand me?"

Because of my agitation I've only just noticed that I've been long speaking my own language. Now he will recoil from me with indignation. How dare I say such things about his King, my husband and lord? He will call me to order. But he says nothing. He just looks at me silently with a pain in his eyes and then nods, very imperceptibly, but so that I can see.

My anger has passed. Now I am annoyed with myself for this silly outburst. Indeed, how can I be so careless? Lord Cromwell may tell my words to the King. Wishing to assuage the negative impression, I say a few conciliatory words: "I'll do everything to make myself agreeable to his majesty, who is so gracious and kind to me." And then I turn away, letting him know that the audience is over.


	5. Chapter 5

The king continues to share bed with me each night. He does it out of duty, for the sake of appearances. Sometimes he even smiles at me and says pleasant things, calls me "sweetheart", wishes a good night. I smile back at him (how pitiable and scared my smile looks like!) and wish pleasant dreams too. But I never speak first, it doesn't occur to me what I could say to him. And he doesn't touch me anymore, does not even make an attempt. More often, he simply turns his back on me and falls asleep. Until that happens, I lie still on my side of the bed trying not to stir the mattress. And only when his snore reaches my ears, I can relax a little and surrender to sleep too.

The more time pass, the more I feel oppressed by the ambiguity of the whole situation. Intuitively I sense that it cannot last long. It's poignant and humiliating for both of us. Perhaps I myself must say or do something to awake his interest in me. Not that I really want it, but I can't feel secure as long as our marriage is not consummated. Until that happens, I am a false wife and queen, a liar who fools everybody, an impostor impertinently usurped someone else's rights. But how can I foist myself upon the man who clearly feels repulsion towards me! And how would I do it? Why girls are not told about such matters, not warned what they should expect? And among all others I must find myself in such a situation!

I think I'll have to speak with one of my ladies in waiting, with someone who has already been married. Casually start a conversation, with the help of hints lead it to the right direction and little by little find out what's necessary to undertake. But one thought that I'll have to confide my intimate secrets to one of these pompous and haughty persons makes me sick. One can only imagine their talk when they will be out of my sight! Of course, Lady Rochford just burns with desire to please me. All her appearance shows me what a loyal servant I've got in her person, and that if only I wished, she will be my faithful confidante, will follow me into fire and water. However, I don't trust this woman, and my intuition never failed me. And besides I simply could not talk about such topic, especially by hints. I'll have to continue to go with the stream wherever it would lead me.

* * *

My thoughts again and again turn to my predecessors, and especially to one of them. Her name was the same as mine. Like me she sat on this very throne, walked these very halls, perhaps even slept on the same sheets which I use now. I've even inherited her ladies in waiting, so to speak. What a horrible end awaited her. What kind of matrimonial life did she have? Previously I never thought that besides the visible, let's say, official side of the royal marriage, there exists another, intimate, the most important part of it. And this carefully protected from another's eyes secret, what happens between husband and wife when they are alone together, decides the fate of the marriage itself. I wonder if the king treated her the same way as me now, then it becomes clear why she ... God, what am I thinking? This is not just a sin, it's worse – treason!

I should not have played with fire, calling into being the ghosts of those who have rested in the grave for a long time. Because today I saw her. Anne Boleyn ... I turned away from the mirror, before which I was combing my hair, and looked into her eyes. I already knew that she was standing and watching me, the woman who took her place. Strangely, but I was not afraid or even surprised, as if to see her here in this bedchamber was the most natural thing in the world. I was even glad that at last I could speak with her. "I've come to look at you", she said (are those whose mouth is buried in the earth forever able to speak?). "How well do you sleep in my bed? And my husband? He's good between the sheets, isn't he? Because with me he was an excellent lover, divine, incomparable lover. He burned with passion just by one look at me. I drove him crazy only with one touch of my hand, one move of eyelashes. Do you really think you can compete with me?"

Slowly I shake my head and wait what she will say next. More than anything, I want to understand. But her face becomes angry, almost hateful. "He's mine, do you hear, mine, and always has been mine. I said it to this silly goose Jane Seymour, and where is she now?" She smiles triumphantly as a woman, knowing that the last word will be hers. Can the dead be dangerous to the living?

"I beg you, don't do me harm", I pray. "I have no guilt towards you". But she does not hear me. She is immersed in her memories. "He loved me. He tore his country apart for me. And I loved him. They said that I have been driven only by vanity and greed, but it's not true. I loved. Even there, in the Tower. And most of all I suffered not from fear of death, but from his betrayal". "So why did you cheat?" I can't bear it longer. She looks at me with surprise. "Who told you that I have cheated? Oh yes, it was an excuse to get rid of me". She slowly shakes her head. "It's he, he cheated on me and then sent me to death".

No, it's impossible, it can't be so. It's too incredible to be ... a lie. "Lie. Everything what's told about me is a lie. You know nothing, poor fool. What can you know about all this? Why have you come here? Nobody needs you".

I become scared. "Don't do me harm", I beg again. "Whatever happened to you, I'm not to blame. Why do you hate me?" Her eyes sadly look at me. "I hate you? No. I pity you, poor unhappy princess from a foreign land. You don't even understand where you have foolishly walked into. And now you can't be released."

She disappears before I can realize it.

I don't believe in ghosts. But little comfort for me to see - it's my inner voice has just talked with me.

* * *

I have completely lost my appetite because of all these worries. And it's me who was always fond of good meal. Now I look indifferently at the delicious dishes prepared for my pleasure. Of course, my state has not gone unnoticed. "Your Majesty has eaten almost nothing tonight", my maids of honor slowly brush my hair and wash my feet in the bedchamber. "I didn't want to", I reply absently, my mind wandering. Suddenly this Lady Rochford, who has been hovering around me all the time, says: "Perhaps I know what's going on. What if Your Majesty is with child?" What nonsense! Oh yes, that's what everyone expects from me, the reason why I am here. Their precious prince, one more heir. Well, as for the prince, they will have to wait. I shake my head. "This is not so, Lady Rochford." Any other in her place would understand that this talk is unpleasant to me. But no, she continues to insist. "But how can Your Majesty be sure of that?" Lord, what a stupid woman. I answer as coldly as I can. "I know I am not". Now she will leave me in peace. Not at all, they all look at me with bated breath. The topic is touched in which they are all interested. How can they miss such a chance? Then Lady Bryan says what everybody thinks: "I suppose, Your Majesty is a maid still."

What should I answer? Confess? Tell a lie? Or remind them of their place? All of a sudden, some demon seizes me. Do they want my confession? Well, I'll break them of peeping at the keyhole of my bedroom. In the most innocent tone I pronounce: "How can I be a maid, Lady Bryan, if the King shares bed with me every night? In the evening he kisses me and says - Good night, sweetheart. Then in the morning he kisses me again and says – Farewell, darling. And after that you think that I am a virgin? "

I smile, looking round them. Now they will consider me a naive fool. Let them think what they want. However Lady Bryan decides it's her duty to enlighten me: "He must put his member inside you and stir it, or else we shall not see the Duke of York ". For shame, Lady Bryan. Have I asked you to inform me of such details? You are the last person from whom I could expect this. "I receive as much of the King's attention as I wish. I am contented with it." Having said that, I go to my bed, the whole look of mine shows my displeasure.

But in bed my fears overcome me again. It is not a light matter, not a cause for jokes! So, when Lady Bryan comes up to me to draw the curtains, I ask timidly: "Tell me, my lady, if I cannot please the King, will he kill me?"

* * *

Tonight the king has come to our bedchamber determined to deprive me of my maidenhood at last. He does not waste time on caresses or love words. He squeezes me tightly in his arms and bears down on me with all his weight, so it becomes difficult to breathe. In truth, I have not been prepared for such sudden attack. My nostrils again are struck by that disgusting smell and I can't move under his weight. My God, how painful and uncomfortable it is! Do all married women have to endure this? I feel his member between my legs, now he will enter me, let it be finished quickly. Oh, man, do it at last! But suddenly he weakens his grasp and releases me. Something is wrong with me, with him, with both of us. He gives me such a look, my God, I know, at that moment he hates me. And then he does what he has done before. He flees from me.

I am lying alone in my large bed and weeping. Of fear, of pain, of my wounded woman's pride.

* * *

After his failure the king no longer comes to my bed. Now he sleeps in his chambers, and I even like it. Out of his sight I can breathe freely and consider the whole situation. God knows, there are a lot of things I should think about. This marriage apparently cannot be called the happiest of all possible conjugal unions. Whatever hopes the king wouldn't have cherished, I obviously have not answered them. What will he undertake then? Demand a divorce, as it was with his first wife? But for a divorce one must have more or less suitable ground. In the case of Catherine her first marriage to his brother served as this ground. In fact, what a terrible idea it was - to marry the widow of his elder brother, she was just the same as his relative. No wonder that they didn't have an heir. Though, I chide myself, it's not for me in my situation to judge anybody. In any case, all this has nothing to do with me, we are not connected even by remote family ties. But if not divorce, then what? For a moment I sweat with fear. Lady Bryan did not answer my question then. Is it possible that he will… No, I must suppress this treacherous tremble of my hands, otherwise I'll break the glass of wine, which I've taken to refresh myself. I have a feeling that I'll need strength in the near future.

On reflection, I come to the conclusion that the King will hardly dare to kill me. Not just because I have no guilt towards him. After all, I am not merely his subject as Anne was. I am a person of royal blood, even if our duchy cannot be called very significant. People like me are not sent to the scaffold, not executed publicly. However, there are also other ways. No, I must stop torturing myself by such thoughts. If the King had planned something of this kind, I would already have known about it. Surely? Besides, Mr. Erleken would have warned me. But he says nothing, on the contrary, he always happily greets me when we meet. Perhaps, the king will do nothing at all, but simply give up his unsuccessful marriage and leave me in peace. That would be the best. Now, when I must not share bed with him and feign happy matrimonial life, I don't feel the falsity of my position so keenly. As a matter of fact, many married couples live this way, each spouse in one's own apartments or even house, meeting only on special occasions and always in public. As for the heirs, well, he has already got one son.

* * *

Gradually I make myself familiar with the court. Now I speak English better, much better. I begin to learn playing harpsichord and I can do it, really, I can. I attend all receptions and entertainments, which are arranged here. Although I try not to be in the center of everybody's attention, as far as it's possible for me, of course. When I walk along the halls and corridors of the palace with my ladies in waiting, I am always announced by this cry "The Queen, the Queen, make way for Her Majesty." All noble gentlemen bow respectfully to me. Sometimes I notice anxious look of Lord Cromwell directing at me. He seems to wonder how my matters with the King stand now. Naturally, it worries him, because my marriage is his doing. We have not spoken with each other after that, first conversation. When I think about that talk I feel little awkwardness. Why have I been so harsh with him, almost blamed for something? As though it's his fault that the king has a sore on his leg, and I don't like sleeping with him. I want to soften this harshness, to show that I'm not angry. That's why I smile, passing by him.

* * *

(Well, as you have probably noticed I've changed some small details in this chapter in comparison with the series – it's the show, not actual history, which I always have in mind. But I suppose that I have a right to do so, yes?)


	6. Chapter 6

My cousin Philip is coming next month. How glad I am to hear it! Finally I shall see someone of my family. Of course, I exchange letters with Amelia and others, but it's little consolation. Letters go so slowly and even then there are so few of them. I've already begun to fear that my relatives have forgotten me, have left, so to speak, to the mercy of fate in a foreign kingdom. Fortunately, I was wrong. I am especially pleased that it will be Philip, with whom I have always been close. Let this month be over soon!

There is one important circumstance concerning my cousin's visit. Mr. Erleken told me that when negotiations about my marriage had been carried on, at the same time there had been raised the question of a possible marriage of the King's daughter, Lady Mary, to someone of my relatives. It is necessary in order to strengthen the friendship between our countries. So now, when the king gave his consent to Phillip's visit, he thereby showed that he didn't forget about that second paragraph of the contract. Despite his attitude towards me, he didn't abandon the idea of an alliance. He needs us, and it's a good sign. Philip may marry Lady Mary? Why not? He is educated, well-mannered, he has a good reputation. He has already distinguished himself on the battlefields. And he is handsome. He is worthy of a hand of the English Princess. And for her it would be the match suitable in all respects. The more I think about it, the more I like this idea. This marriage will draw me closer to my stepdaughter, with whom, frankly speaking, I still can't be truly intimate. But what's more important, if Philip marries Mary, he will remain in England, and I shall not be so lonely any longer.

However, in order to achieve this I should obtain consent and support of the princess, at least let her know about this match-making. I foresee that religious matters will be the stumbling-block. Mary stubbornly clings to the old faith, the faith of her mother, and nothing in the world will make her change her beliefs. But what is worse, she is prejudiced against anyone who, like we, for example, accepted the new learning. Nevertheless, it's worth trying, especially as she is at court now. So I invite her to my apartments and carefully start a conversation about my cousin. I see that she has become interested, though she does her best not to show it. Of course, she asks her inevitable "he is a Lutheran, like you?" Lord, why is it so important for some people? "He is handsome", I say, smiling, "and he wants to meet you. What shall I write to him?" Poor girl, if only she knew how I understand her! Perhaps, of all people in the world I am the one who can truly understand her. Because now I look at her and see myself as I was a year ago. Just like her I wanted to get rid of my hateful maiden existence and at the same time feared the uncertainty which always accompanies any changes in life. And just like her, I didn't have mother, with whom one can speak about such things which are impossible to talk with anyone else. That's only (I cannot help but sigh) her bridegroom differs from the man I had to marry. "So what shall I tell him?" - I repeat. "Tell him", - she hesitates – "tell him he may come, if he pleases and if the king wishes. But he shouldn't expect anything". Well, half the job is done.

I am extremely looking forward to Philip's arrival. He is the only one with whom I can talk frankly. I'll tell him about my concerns, confess my doubts. Let him express his opinion how I should behave with the king. It's always useful to take a detached view. Anyway, he is my close relative, he doesn't and cannot have any secret plan concerning me, unlike many others at this court. Yes, he will give me good advice.

* * *

Here he has come, and we are sitting in my chambers. He has changed, matured over the months that I have not seen him. He is very glad to meet me. "Your Majesty" – he constantly repeats it in a special tone, as if he could not believe how it happened that his unremarkable cousin had suddenly become the Queen of England. He has high hopes in regard to his visit. And he has already managed to make the acquaintance with Mary, he decided to introduce himself to her when she went through the palace gallery. Well, well, my cousin doesn't waste time! "She is charming. True lady, full of beauty and dignity." He praises her in such a way as if expecting me to repeat his words to her. Maybe I'll do it, we'll see. I feel better in his company, as if I were ten years younger. Now I'll tell him everything, I just need time to collect my thoughts. But we are surrounded by my ladies-in-waiting, servants, how is it possible to speak in their presence? Of course, I may kick them out at any moment. Surely, I do have a right to stay with my cousin in private? However, even in this case, I realize sadly, I shall tell him nothing. We are not the children that once played hide-and-seek in the gloomy galleries of our old castle. We grew up and gradually moved away from each other. Now he looks at me differently. I am the Queen of a foreign country, even if his sister. I am a married woman, I have the family of my own. And he, he is too engrossed in his own courtship. I shall tell him nothing.

* * *

Philip and Mary are dancing together. They like each other, it is obvious. They suit each other in age, standing, they will be a perfect couple. Let them be happy.

As usual, I am sitting on my throne and watching the dancers. I am too shy to dance myself, but I like to look at the pairs of charming ladies and gallant gentlemen, many of whom I know already, others remember only by sight and some I don't even recognize yet. These third pairs are the most interesting ones. I like to imagine in what relations they could be with each other outside the parquet hall, to invent love stories. Well, it also can be an entertainment. You can live another people's life, albeit fictitious, if you lack the life of your own. Of course, I amiably smile at my subjects, sometimes speak with one or another. I am the Queen, I must favour everybody with my attention.

The King is not present at the ballroom. Usually he attends such gatherings, but tonight I cannot see him. Probably, he is busy with affairs of state, talking with the envoys, signing some important papers. Honestly, it's better for me. I still feel a terrible stiffness in his presence, though it has been almost half a year since our wedding. But sooner or later I will get used to his company, cease to tremble once he glances at me. I am his wife, after all.

* * *

Today I've heard it. That's what under no circumstances I was supposed to hear. But how long can you live in the ivory tower? Servants' gossips would penetrate even there. I stood at the window, absently looking into the distance (my favorite occupation) when suddenly I heard a conversation in an adjacent room, behind a curtain. The last thing I wanted was to overhear somebody's tittle-tattle, but one clearly must be a saint to resist such a temptation.

"So you say the king is in a rage?"

"I should think so! He constantly shouts at Cromwell why he hasn't delivered him from his wife yet. Once or twice he even struck him, I swear, I've seen myself."

"So that's how things are. Well, there is nothing to be surprised. From the beginning everything went wrong. My Jane told me..."

They switched to a whisper. Then again:

"You don't say so!"

"Well, he told himself why you foisted me this mare. Flanders mare, that's how he calls his dear little wife. Very affectionate, isn't it?"

"And where is the king now?"

"Where is he to be, if not with Lady Katherine Howard?"


	7. Chapter 7

"Who is that Lady Katherine Howard?"

I can no longer live in this blissful ignorance, pretending nothing is happening. Therefore I summon our ambassador and ask, no, demand to give me an explanation. How long will they make a fool of me? Mr. Erleken obviously feels uneasy by this conversation, but he has no choice.

"She is a distant relation to the Duke of Norfolk, one of the senior noblemen of this realm. Although she herself is an orphan, and it seems that her family has not cared much about her so far."

"Then how old is she to need her family's care?"

"About sixteen or seventeen."

Almost a child!

"She is new at court. Your Majesty might have seen her. That young little blonde."

The court is full of young little blondes, how can I distinguish one from another!

"So what kind of relations does she have with the king?"

"Madam, how to put it…"

"You may speak freely, Your Excellency."

"She entertains the king, renders him some services, so to speak, of intimate nature."

"To put it simply, she is his mistress."

"Hmm..."

"Your Excellency, I have already asked you to be frank with me."

"Well, Madam, if so… I would be glad to advise you not to pay attention to that person. You see, entertainments of this kind are usual thing, especially for the kings. But I'm afraid everything is much more serious."

It cannot be more serious indeed. I thought my husband ignored me because of his dislike of my person. Now it turns out that he wasn't going to live with me from the beginning, because he had that mistress, that Lady Howard. But, probably, he met her later, after…

"A reliable source close to the King informed me that my lords Suffolk and Bryan purposely presented her to His Majesty in hope that he would, well, you understand."

Suffolk and Bryan want to ruin my marriage? Why? What have I done to them? Had I time to do anything to anybody?

"They have nothing against Your Majesty. They want to overthrow Lord Cromwell. He has associated himself too closely with your marriage and now, when the King is looking for a scapegoat, against whom his anger will turn?"

Slowly I begin to understand.

"I've been told also that they together with Lord Seymour, a brother of the late Queen, your predecessor, conceived this scheme even before your arrival as one of the possible means. Certainly, their hatred of Lord Cromwell is boundless."

Indeed. And in order to satisfy this hatred they will do everything in their power – will ruin someone else's marriage, will break the life of a woman who did them no harm, even will make that child a whore. All this with the single aim in mind – to destroy their enemy. I remember how the Duke of Suffolk taught me to play cards there, in Calais. He seemed to be so pleasant, so gallant gentleman. Nevertheless, he had already decided to ruin me. He staked on my failure.

"So what shall I do now?"

"I would advise Your Majesty to have patience and wait."

Wait for what? For my dismissal which is already at hand?

"The king is very changeable. Perhaps, he will soon be tired of this lady's charms. In any case, our alliance retains its importance."

* * *

I am sitting in my chambers and sewing. I no longer come to the throne hall, don't watch the courtiers' entertainments. I am simply unable to see all these people. I've become very sensitive and suspicious. Each sidelong glance seems to be directed at me, each phrase seems to have double meaning. I constantly hear some whispering behind my back. I even cannot be in the company of my ladies. That's why I've asked them to leave me and now I am sitting completely alone. Sitting and thinking.

Katherine Howard, a young little blonde of seventeen. What does she have which I have not? Of course, beauty and youth. I am not beautiful and already not very young. The king calls me Flanders mare and refuses to share bed with me. His closest friends and advisers do their best to rouse his hostility. In order to win the court struggle. This is life, rather than romantic dreams. This is _my_ life.

My husband demands to be delivered from me. But is he _really_ my husband? Yes, Archbishop of Canterbury said so in church, I made my marriage vows, we exchanged wedding rings. Rings, but not looks. How many words have we said to each other so far, banal greetings apart? What do I know about him after six months of marriage? I know that he has ulcer on his leg which stinks and that he cannot perform an act of love. With me, at least. Surely, with this Howard everything is different. He does not feel repulsion towards her. But she towards him? What does _she_ feel when he touches her? What do they talk about? Does it matter, after all?

Gradually, my thoughts turn to Lord Cromwell. Now I understand his persistent pleas to me to do my utmost to attract his majesty. And his nervousness at my first appearance at court. And the looks he gave me. I have not answered his expectations, proved to be the wrong stake. Now this card is covered, and the king is looking for a scapegoat. Well, certainly in his life he did the same to other people, it is his turn now. That is life. However, for some reason I remember the words of Mr. Erleken, Lord Cromwell repeatedly demonstrated his ability to survive changing friends. Surely, he will act the same way now. In any case, I shall be the only one to lose.

"Lord Cromwell, Your Majesty." What? Does the maid have the gift of reading my thoughts? "Asks for an audience." I awake to reality. No, I don't want to receive him. What can he tell me in addition to the things he has said before? Besides, today I am not in a mood for receiving anybody, I don't look well, please, leave me alone, you all. But no, it's impossible, I am the queen, this position implies certain responsibilities. Furthermore, it occurs to me, Cromwell would not have come here just for the sake of idle visit. He is not the man to waste his time on such trifles. Only something very important would induce him to do it. So, with a look I give my consent, and milord enters my rooms.

I wonder why he is so embarrassed at the sight of me, as if he didn't dare to glance at me, couldn't find the proper words? Do I really look so ugly? Or maybe he is to tell me something so unpleasant that it requires all his courage? Now he will announce that I must pack up my belongings and go back to Germany. Or worse, to the Tower.

"How does Your Majesty find your new country? You are already familiar with everything here, aren't you?"

What a strange question. However, one should start a conversation somehow.

"Thank you, my lord. I have nothing to complain. Everybody here is very attentive and kind to me."

Practically I don't dissemble, saying that. In fact, except the king these people treat me very, very well. The courtiers are eager to execute all my wishes, always pay their respects. On those rare occasions when I leave the palace for a walk, the crowd enthusiastically welcomes me. But, I remind myself, it's all disingenuous. These complaisant lords and ladies, who bow and curtsy so respectfully to me, wouldn't shed a tear, if the king intended to get rid of me. On the contrary, they would eagerly help him at this honorable task. As for the people in the streets, well, they would have another queen to welcome.

"I am glad. Glad to hear it. And His Majesty, he continues…"

That's what he is interested in. May the king be smitten with love for me all of a sudden? This miraculous amour is his only hope and advantage now, if I understand something in their intrigues. All the same, why does he ask a question the answer to which he knows beforehand?

"My lord", I smile bitterly. "As you can see, the king is not here, in my chambers. So you may guess that he doesn't like my company very much."

He doesn't know what to say. Our silence lasts too long. How shall I break it, perhaps, suggest a glass of wine or a game of cards?

"My lord", - again, as at our first meeting I speak before I can think. – "I beg you, don't conceal anything from me. What does His Majesty say about me? What is he going to do? Surely you know everything."

My naivety truly knows no bounds. He'll reveal their plans to me, forsooth!

"He wants a divorce", Lord Cromwell says plainly.

Divorce… Here it is. The word is uttered at last. But on what ground…

"On the ground that there existed a precontract between you and the son of the Duke of Lorraine. According to His Majesty, it was not annulled and that fact troubles his conscience. He said so the other day: 'I am married to another man's wife'."

I've expected everything, but not that! The contract concluded when I was a child, the engagement about which everybody forgot to think long ago. My God, show me any royal family, which would not enter into such alliances. The king himself promised his daughter's hand either to the French or to the Spaniards so many times, and her future husbands changed as often as his allies. Does it mean that now she cannot marry Philip? Or anyone else?

"Your Majesty", Lord Cromwell says with a sudden passion. "You have nothing to worry about. I have carefully examined your marriage contract and other documents concerning this case. Legally your position is flawless. One word of yours will be enough to repudiate all your previous obligations. Your marriage is absolutely lawful, you should not doubt that."

In this case how will the king divorce me?

"You tell me that one word of mine can prevent the annulment of my marriage. But what if I don't want to say it?"

Lord Cromwell loses the gift of speech by amazement.

"What? Don't you want to be the Queen of England?"

"But what did my marriage give me, tell me honestly?" – The words again escape from my lips before I can hold them. – "What does it mean – to be the Queen of England? To live in a permanent fear not knowing what next day will bring you? How many humiliations I have suffered over these months, how many tears I have shed and perhaps will shed even more. I know I am unattractive and cannot expect the king's love, but I am a woman too, I have pride. And I am of the royal family, how is it possible to say such things about me, such…"

I cannot bear it any longer. One minute and I'll start crying and it will be the end of my royal dignity.

He comes to me so close that I seem to feel his breath. And besides it seems to me that he wants to put his hand on my shoulder, but does not dare to do it.

"Madam", - he speaks softly. – "Why are you saying that? Why have you decided that you are… you are unattractive? You are full of dignity, queenly dignity, you immediately engross everybody's attention once you appear somewhere. And you are… a beautiful… woman."

I am smiling through tears.

"The king obviously thinks otherwise. You are not going to deny it, are you? What has he told you about me?"

Lord Cromwell makes a strange grimace, something between condescension and contempt.

I have almost calmed down. I don't want to look silly and miserable in his eyes.

"I am not complaining, my lord. I don't overestimate my charms, believe me. I know that men are looking for pleasure in a marriage, and when wives cannot give it to them, they begin seeking elsewhere. Only I didn't expect that it would happen so rapidly and irrevocably."

"Not all men are like that."

What a strange conversation. Why have I started it?

"You are certainly not, are you? But it would be better to ask your wife about such things. By the way, I haven't met her yet. Is she presented to court?"

"She died", he says simply.

"I am sorry, I didn't know. I didn't want…"

"Never mind. It happened long ago."

"How long?"

"Thirteen years."

I am so surprised that I hold my breath for a moment. Thirteen years – it's almost an eternity!

"And you haven't got married since then. Why?"

No, I really have lost my mind, if I ask such questions. Now he will tell me that his private life is not my business. Though no, he will not. I am his queen, he must answer me.

But he does not hurry to answer. As if he never thought about it himself.

"I don't know. At first it was simply impossible. It was like cheating, you see? Or admitting that she was gone, finally and for good. It's silly, of course. But then, there was other business, a lot of things to do. Besides, I had children, it was necessary to arrange proper marriages for them in the first place."

I nod my head.

"And how many children do you have?"

"Only one son. Daughters died, also long ago. Besides, there are my sisters' children. But they all have grown up, all stand on their own feet now."

There is calm satisfaction in his voice. They have grown up and stand on their own feet, they are well, I have taken care about it.

I also want to tell him something about myself.

"I have a sister too. Amelia. She is two years younger than me."

"I know", he nods.

"Of course", – I say with laugh. – "Of course, you know."

We both feel well from this laughter.

"You have not been at the throne hall today". – It's half a statement, half a question. – "And yesterday too."

Yes, and the day before yesterday and all the other days.

"Is it so important?"

"Certainly. Many people want to see their Queen. The court is not full without her."

"I simply wanted to stay alone with my thoughts."

True, there is something regal in me. Otherwise why would a woman like me confuse a man like him?

"Madam", - he has already made his bow and turned toward the door, but suddenly stopped. – "I want to tell you. I want you to know. I didn't wish that it would happen this way. I had no such intentions - to offend you. Honestly speaking, I didn't even think about it while arranging your marriage. I ask your forgiveness."

* * *

So, the king wants to divorce me. Well, I already knew it. Lord Cromwell did not tell me anything new, I was right. No, he said something. Yes, that I am a beautiful woman. Well, it was just a compliment, and in truth, I asked for it myself. I can dispute my divorce, now it's necessary to weigh everything, to discuss the matter thoroughly. Tomorrow I shall consult with Mr. Erleken.

How many stars there are in the sky now! The day will be fine tomorrow.

I should think about my marriage, how to handle it now, when I know everything, I must think.

I wonder if his wife was beautiful. Of course, she was. What was her name? And why did she die? I could have asked about it too. No. These questions would have caused him pain.


	8. Chapter 8

(Anna Taure, thank you for your kind words about my story. Just one remark. I think that their difference in age is not the main problem in this case. But because it is AU and I can do everything I wish with my characters (of course, what is psychologically and historically believable), let's say that he is 20 years older than her)

* * *

Summer comes, my favourite time of year. The weather is so warm, so fine that it's simply impossible to stay indoors. I often walk with my ladies-in-waiting in the palace gardens, at the river. Mary and Philip join us. My heart is calm.

I have not talked with Mr. Erleken then. Let it remain as it is. I'm just living every minute and enjoying each new day. And wondering what it will bring me.

Every day I appear at court. Many people want to see their queen. I politely greet everybody, talk about various trifles, laugh at them.

Almost every day we meet with Lord Cromwell. His eyes smile at me.

I long parted with my awful German dresses. How could I only wear them? I've ordered new ones, in the French fashion. They suit me.

I am constantly outdoors. How beautiful it is here. What a bright, what a rich grass, never in my life I've seen it. I inhale the fragrance of flowers, I want to breathe with every fibre of my being.

"You've changed, sister", – Philip says to me. – "Become so beautiful. No, don't laugh, I am your brother, I wouldn't lie to you. Your marriage did you good".

My marriage did me good when I stopped thinking about it.

What will happen tomorrow? I am only twenty-five, the whole life awaits me. And besides, it's summer, I've always liked this time of year.

* * *

Why have I cherished my joy so much? Some evil god might have envied me. Philip must go away. The king does not want to see him at court. He does not want to give his daughter to him. It was just a game on his part, a diplomatic game. Now the circumstances have changed, and there is no need in it anymore. Perhaps he will never marry her off at all and keep on promising her hand either to the French, or to the Spaniards, or to any other of his temporary allies.

My brother comes to say me goodbye. He can't conceal his disappointment. When shall we see each other again, if we are destined to meet at all? He set such great hopes on his coming here. He liked Lady Mary, he was about to love her. But he will cope with it. He is too young and full of life to indulge in sadness for long. But Mary… How will she go through it? Another disappointment. Another, perhaps the ultimate crush of her hopes. Oh, God, why have I only started it, why enticed her by the vision of happiness?

I tell her about the king's decision. Who else but me must do it? How I hate myself at this moment. I'd like to find some special words to show her how I understand her. Perhaps, it is the only chance for us to become truly intimate. But all that comes to my mind is to say "I am sorry". As if it was a small trouble, a migraine, a toothache. Never mind, all shall be well tomorrow. She looks at me and says comfortingly: "Do not regret, madam. The Duke was charming, but we would never have married. Our faith is different ". She does not cry. She is true lady; ladies never show how they feel.

* * *

I am dining privately with His Majesty. It is a rare occasion, especially of late. My God, why can't I get used to his company so far? Why do I start trembling every time he glances at me? He is always polite, never raises his voice in my presence. It may seem that we are a good couple, no worse than others. Many husbands treat their wives quite differently. They shout at them, bang the table and even raise a hand against them, yes, it also happens. Maybe, the matter is that I know what he thinks about me. And besides, that expression of his. Usually he excellently controls himself. But sometimes his eyes betray him. And then I can see his soul, cruel and cold.

"You are not eating, madam. Are you unwell?" I pull myself together and give him a forced smile. I ought to keep up the conversation; it's impolite to be silent as the grave. What would I say to him?

"Madam, I wish to inform you that next week you are leaving for Richmond. It is necessary for your health". For my health? What, is there a particular climate in that place?

"Summer has come, time of diseases. There have already been some cases of sweat in London, thank God, only a few". What if I suddenly died from sweat, it would solve all his problems. "It is for your comfort and your pleasure". Of course, for my comfort. He sends me away so that in my absence he could spend more time with that Katherine Howard. Though he can do as he pleases in my presence as well. But what if he wants me out of his sight to divorce me without any obstacle? However, is it possible to achieve such purpose without my consent or even knowledge?

"Your Majesty will not join me?" I need to clarify his intentions. "No, my dear. I'd like to, but… Some urgent matters prevent me from leaving London. Some affairs of state". Then as though proving the rightness of these words, Lord Seymour, a brother of the late Queen Jane, appears in the doorway. "You see", - his majesty's look says to me, - "even here I can't have a rest!" With regret he gets up from the table and goes to his councilor. They talk about something in a low voice, occasionally glancing in my direction. I look down at the plate.

* * *

Of course, he has decided to get rid of me at last, to unbind the unwanted bond. He has been playing this game for too long. It is time to put an end to the comedy. Unexpectedly I feel a relief. This emotion is probably experienced by those condemned to death whose execution has been delayed and finally they are told that an axeman is waiting outside the door. But would it really be so awful? Didn't I say myself that I did not want to be the queen? Now I shall be free.

No, I rebuke myself, there is nothing honorable in my situation. Only shame and disgrace. I have failed my role, my responsibility and I am rejected as defective goods. The bargain is broken. So what line of action is left to me? Should I return to my brother and live at his expense till the end of my days? Because nobody would marry me after everything what's happened. Or maybe it would be better to stay here as a dismissed queen whose very existence is tiresome to everybody. How shall I look in the face of people, my former subjects? Your King has given me resignation, but it does not matter. Life goes on. If only they will leave it to me, my life, instead of sending me away to some god-forsaken hole where I'll soon perish from loneliness and despair. As it happened with Catherine.

Catherine of Aragon… Queen or Princess Dowager, no matter, she knew how to behave. Not for a moment she doubted her rights, not for a moment she stopped fighting. She was a real queen, unlike me! She bravely confronted her husband who made up his mind to abandon her just because he had fallen in love with a younger woman. But she was a daughter of Spain, she was taught to command. I was taught to obey. And in any case, her resistance came to nothing. "His Majesty always gets what he wants".

Nevertheless, I shall have to follow her example. If not for my own sake, than for the sake of my family's honor, my country's reputation. It's impossible to allow such disgrace. I must write to my brother as soon as possible. Of course, I should have done so long ago. Besides, it's necessary to prepare my defence at the trial, because the danger that I'll have to face it is real. My every word, every gesture must be well-considered, well-planned so that people would say: "Yes, she is a true Queen! Honor – that's what is in the first place for her!" Lord Cromwell said that my marriage was absolutely lawful. Well, I'll make everybody see it.

I need to speak with Lord Cromwell. Tomorrow I'll send for him. No, I can't wait for tomorrow, I'll send for him today, just now. But it's too late, he is certainly asleep. Of course, he will come at my first call; but do I have right to give him trouble? I am able to wait till the morning.

He must have read my thoughts. Because when I am thinking over this dilemma, the door opens and my lord enters my rooms.

* * *

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, for this late visit. But I needed to speak with you, to warn you. You should know that the king wants to abandon you."

"I know it. You said it to me, remember our last conversation?"

"Yes, but then there were just words. Now it will be deeds. The king has finally established himself in the thought to demand a divorce. He said in the council today: "It's necessary to put an end to this misfortune. I am not in peace with my conscience". And besides he said some things about which you shouldn't know. Anyway he summons the parliament to settle this question."

Meantime I shall be in Richmond, far away from here.

"But can he get a divorce without my agreement? You've said yourself that…"

"Yes, I said that legally your position is flawless. But ... the king is the king."

And he always gets what he wants.

"Then what should I do? What do you advise me?"

"Madam, I don't know. Don't know what's better for you. Now this news will not take you by surprise and you will have time to ponder over it and come to the right decision. Do as your sense and instinct of self-preservation tell you. As for my advice… I think nobody will require them anymore."

I look at him as if for the first time. Why is there such desperation in his voice? Such sadness in his eyes? And such fatigue? Previously, it was not so. Previously, I have not noticed it.

"In this case, perhaps I shall be allowed to give you advice?"

He looks at me questioningly.

"Immediately, just now give up all your business and go to bed. You need a rest."

He gives a nervous laugh. My heart is sinking into the abyss from it.

"My God, what a trifle. Your Majesty should not think about such things."

"It's not a trifle. And let me decide myself what I should think about. I am not indifferent…"

I can't find the right words. That's why I come closer to him.

"I have failed you."

"No, not at all. It is not your fault. In any case, the country already has got one heir."

I slowly shake my head and say it again.

"I have failed _you_. Tell me what can I do now?"

But he has said that his time of advising is over. So he lowers his eyes (why does not he want to look at me?) and then speaks as if to himself:

"I am afraid, it may affect my children if something will…"

I don't know how it's happened. I raise my hand and touch him. I stroke his face, his hair, I feel his skin. I give him my warmth. I want him to become comfortable now.

"Madam…"

His voice is so different from everyone else's. How would it be to hear him calling my name? I've been so rarely called by my name.

"Madam, if you allow me…"

I know what he wants to ask. My instinct, my woman's feeling tell it to me. I incline towards him and close my eyes. I feel his lips.

I have never given a kiss. My eyes are filling with tears, they flow down my cheeks, and I don't want to wipe them. I know, at this very moment he has parted with me.


	9. Chapter 9

I never found out what was the name of his wife. And how old is his son now. And there was something else, something important I wanted to ask and what I shall never know. Because I shall never see him again. As Mary will never see Philip. What a terrible word – "never". What has just happened between us?

I shall have my memories. They will never leave me. Memories about the way he was looking at me, about his voice so different from anybody else's. Memories about something subtle, elusive which happened to me and to which I cannot find a name. I shall live with these memories. I shall live, and he will die.

Die… That's why I'll never see him again. He will not go to another country like Philip. It's not the distance that will separate us. I will be breathing the smell of the mown grass and he will not. I will be looking at the stars and he will not. I will be waking up every morning and he… Only now I've realized this horror.

How insignificant my own sufferings are in compare with this! All these worries what I should do to awake the king's interest, all concerns about my appearance or servants' gossips. Someone's life has been at stake all this time and I've been absorbed in self-pity, preoccupied by my own miseries, my own emotions. And now what am I doing? Sitting here and analysing every nuance of my feelings. How can I be so selfish?

Yes, but why must he die? Because he has enemies, because he has made the wrong step, because the king, yes, _the king_ desires this death. That's the point. That's the most important thing. The King's wishes are the law. We'll see. Henry, you want to kill Lord Cromwell? I won't let you do it!

I never went to bed that night. But I did not feel tired. For the first time in my life I experienced such surge of strength. For the first time in my life I thought not of myself.

* * *

I stand at the door of the king's chambers and demand to announce me. If he refuses to receive me, well, I've foreseen this possibility too. I had plenty of time to prepare my today's actions. I had no right to leave even the slightest detail to the mercy of chance. And now I have no right to be weak.

It's high time for us to have a talk, darling. Your Majesty, the King of England. My husband and lord. Selfish, ungrateful, cruel, conceited fool. Used to get what you want? Used to satisfy whatever folly enters your mind? Well, you'll get something from me too today.

He is very surprised to see me. Of course, I have never come to his chambers before. Perhaps, he hoped that he wouldn't have to meet me ever at all.

"Madam?"

There is uncertainty in his questioning tone. I wonder why I was so afraid of him all that time.

"Your Majesty, before going away I'd like to relieve the burden which has been lying heavily on my heart for these last months. One thought, painful thought does not give me a rest."

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"That Your Majesty is displeased with me for something."

"I? Displeased with you? Really, what has caused such gloomy thoughts? Do I have any reason to be displeased with you?"

"No, but… I don't know… I fear…"

"My darling", - his voice sounds so soothingly, so comfortingly, - "not for a moment you should doubt my favour and sympathy. Even if you heard the other things somewhere, sometime, you should know that you are my true and beloved wife whose love and devotion I have no cause nor reason to question. Your well-being is in the first place for me."

I bet he is sure that he has persuaded me! Now, in his opinion, I must turn my back on him and leave him in peace.

"Your Majesty is so kind. I feel a load has been taken off my mind. I was so afraid that I had antagonised you by some means."

He gives me a gracious smile. Doesn't he understand that I can see right through him?

"My lady", - he nods a little, - "now if you permit, some urgent matters demand my attention…"

"I am so grateful to Your Majesty for your care about me."

"Not at all, not at all."

"So Your Majesty will not divorce me, will you?"

The smile freezes on his face. He is stunned, I swear, it's marvelous sight!

"Who told…"

"Because if Your Majesty wants it, I shall raise no objections whatsoever."

Has he forgotten English language?

"The desire of my sovereign is the law to me. I know I had the misfortune not to please you at our first meeting. And then, alas, I turned out to be a bad wife, with whom you did not wish to enter into marital relations. The only thing I can do to expiate my fault is to give you freedom."

"Will you not resist the annulment of our marriage?"

"No. On the contrary, I am ready to acknowledge the existence of my previous engagement with the son of the Duke of Lorraine. It is also my guilt towards you."

"Madam, then why have you kept silence?.. Anne, if you speak seriously, you will have nothing to complain, I swear to you. You'll get everything you want - money, estates, titles. Yes, you will become my sister, my dearest sister, and the first lady in this country after the new queen and my daughters."

So now I shall have one more brother!

"But Your Majesty must promise me…"

"Of course, your honor will not be damaged in a slightest manner. I think that certain delicate matters should not be mentioned in public. In any case, your consent settles all of it."

"And when are you going to start the proceedings, sire?"

"I suppose, there is no need to delay it. Especially as the parliament is summoned in a couple of weeks, so I'll order them to discuss this matter too."

"Well, I am for it."

"But Anne, you must write to your brother that you don't have any complaints."

"Certainly. I'll do everything Your Majesty wishes."

He is eager to give me half the world. But I want something different from him.

"With Your Majesty's permission, I'd like to touch one more question."

"Yes?"

"It seems to me that Your Majesty holds anger against your adviser, against Lord Cromwell. Of course, you are absolutely right. But could you for the sake of, well, in honor of your forthcoming marriage about which you have hinted to me, show mercy?"

"Why does it interest you, may I ask?"

Now I must be very careful. One wrong word and everything is ruined.

"I am a woman, so it's only natural for me to feel pity and compassion. But most importantly, I cannot shake off an impression that my failure to please Your Majesty was the cause of Lord Cromwell's misfortune. I wouldn't like to live the rest of my life with the feeling of guilt."

"In this case, let me reassure you, Madam. You have nothing to reproach yourself. Even if in the near future you hear about his destiny, you should attach no importance to it. It's not you have brought him to the scaffold."

"Not me?"

"Not you, Anne. Don't worry about that. I don't have resentment against you and our, shall we say, not very successful matrimony."

"In this case, sire, why do you want to execute him?"

I hope my voice doesn't betray me.

"There are other reasons, important political considerations. You are hardly interested in them. It will be enough if I say that Cromwell has not justified my trust."

His tone makes it clear that he considers the topic is closed.

"How right you are, Your Majesty!" He looks at me with surprise. "I absolutely agree with you. Yes, it's necessary to give an example to all those…" From indignation I even cannot find proper words. Oh, how I despise these people who dare not to justify the trust of His Gracious Majesty! "I hope the fate of this traitor will be a good lesson to everybody!"

He still cannot understand where I am driving at. But something has changed in the expression of his eyes. Something new appears in his look. An interest in me. My God, I hope he wouldn't alter his decision to divorce me!

"You are a great ruler, Your Majesty. And husband. I still have to learn a lot from you."

"Maybe, you explain yourself at last, Madam."

"From now on, all my life will be devoted to you. Will you not refuse to guide my steps, help and teach me remembering about my weak female nature? I for my part shall serve and obey you in all matters, as a good wife should do."

"What? You've said yourself a minute ago…"

"I've changed my mind. Apparently my reason became obscured for a moment. I swore before God not to leave you, either in sickness or in health. How can I break these sacred vows? I am yours. Forever. I am your true wife and queen."

Lord, it's blackmail! I am blackmailing the King of England!

"Do I understand you correctly", – his voice sounds slowly and menacingly, – "that you agree to give me freedom in exchange for Cromwell's life?"

"I couldn't say it better myself."

"But why? For heaven's sake? What's the matter?"

"Think of it as my whim. We, ladies, are allowed to have them, aren't we? And Majesty", - I try to pronounce every word clearly and distinctly, - "I want you to understand. I do not overestimate my abilities, but I do not _under_estimate them either. I can facilitate the achievement of your desire or I can make it very, very difficult and very, very prolonged. And I'll do that, I swear."

Now all cards are on the table. It's his turn. How slowly these minutes are passing.

I don't know what he was thinking while staring at me in silence. But I never lowered my head, nor looked aside. I looked straight into his eyes until he realized that I was serious.

Of course, the ghost of his first divorce appeared before him. And with that, another Catherine -his current passion (what kind of fate makes him choose the wives with the same names all the time?) Is it worth while postponing the matter? His new sweetheart is so young, she can bear sons. But he is not very young already and besides he has a secret about which I can inform somebody if I'd like to. Katherine… Her merry laughter, her ardent kisses, her arms in which it's so alluring to find yourself. She will make you forget about that shameful failure, that absurd marriage with the Flanders mare. She will make you feel life again. Is it worth while sacrificing all this to satisfy envy and vindictiveness of your cronies? Obviously, the matter is not worth it.

It goes without saying, this is just my speculation. I can't read thoughts. But this phrase leaves no doubt about its meaning:

"I think, madam, we understand each other. And when clever people understand each other, they can always come to an agreement."

I know that I have won.

* * *

I am sitting in my chambers, ready for bedtime. My ladies-in-waiting are brushing my hair, washing my feet. How they pity me! Unhappy unwanted wife, soon-to-be-dismissed Queen. But what is worse, poor creature does not even know about her fate! They give me compassionate glances when they think that I don't notice it. However, their sympathy is mixed with a considerable share of contempt. I've failed my role, my responsibilities, proved to be defective goods. Surely, they wonder why I keep on smiling all the time.


	10. Chapter 10

(Sorry for the little digression before start. As I see it, Anne became brave and strong when she realized that the life of the man she loved depended entirely on her. So that's how she handled her divorce. As for Henry, being selfish to the bottom of his soul he simply didn't notice what was going on around him until it didn't affect his interests. And I am afraid that although it would be very tempting to see their interaction, Thomas's enemies matter so little to her that she will not condescend to explain anything to them. Too much honor!)

* * *

I had to go to Richmond anyway. I stayed there all the time the divorce proceedings were carried on. Though fortunately, everything was finished rather quickly. Thank God, I was spared from the obligation to appear at trial in person. I made the necessary statements in writing and signed what was demanded of me. Frankly speaking, Lord Seymour whom the king ordered to communicate with me was very much surprised by my tractability. Surely he attributed it to my awe of His Majesty. I was not going to dissuade him. The will of the sovereign is the law for his subjects and at any rate it is always more reasonable to bow to the inevitable.

As for the king himself, he was very pleased with the turn this affair had taken. He rewarded me generously and even expressed his suggestion and consent that I could remarry in the future if it would be my wish to do so. He allowed me to stay in England and enjoy all the benefits and honors due to my rank. "She keeps her promises", - those words, as I was told, he said about me. But he also kept his!

I am sitting with Mr. Erleken in the apartments of Hever Castle, my new possessions, and talking about the court news. He has had hard times over the last months, His Excellency the Ambassador of the Duke of Cleves. But he managed to come out of the situation with credit and retain confidence and favour of my two brothers – old and new. And I bet it was not an easy task to achieve!

"Upon thorough reflection over the whole matter, I have come to the conclusion that Your Highness acted rather wisely by accepting the King's demands. Instead of his hostility you have gained his gratitude of which you can take advantage now. As His Majesty's sister you will have the opportunity to influence him is such a way you could not do being his wife."

"I think, you are right, Your Excellency. But I prefer to stand aloof from court intrigues. In any case, politics is the men' doings, isn't it? As for me, I have always known my place."

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. He is very smart, Herr Ambassador, as a good diplomat should be.

"Speaking of politics, many at court were rather surprised by the outcome of this affair for Lord Cromwell. To tell the truth, everybody was sure that his adversaries gained the upper hand over him and his days were numbered. You know, he defended your marriage and position as the Queen till the last."

"Really?"

"Yes, it's true. At first, he motivated it by the necessity to withstand the combined threat of the Emperor and the King of France. But even when the danger of the hostile actions of these Powers was gone, he continued to insist upon the alliance with us. He even went so far as to defy the clearly expressed will of His Majesty to find him the ground for a divorce. Strangely, he was not so scrupulous in previous cases. It seems that friendship with the protestant countries is of great value in his eyes indeed."

"But our alliance remains valid, doesn't it?"

"To a certain extent. As I have had the opportunity to remark formerly, politics does not know permanence. All the same, it is impossible to understand how Cromwell managed to survive this time. His enemies already rubbed their hands with joy hoping to see him on the scaffold soon. They agreed to grant him one month of life, no more. But he not only escaped death, but also regained all his titles and position at court. True, this man should not be underestimated."

"Anyway, I am glad that it happened this way. After all, Your Excellency, I was right. Lord Cromwell is our friend indeed."

One thought has just crossed my mind. What if Lord Cromwell foresaw my intercession for him and even counted on it? What if it was his last stake in this game? Well, what of that? What does it change? Even if I got indisputable proofs of the rightness of this assumption, would I have acted differently? On that day in the royal chambers I made perhaps the most important and meritorious deed for the whole time of my existence in this world, something that nobody at this elegant and sophisticated court ever did. I saved human life.

* * *

Gradually I grow roots in my new domains. Of all the estates the king bestowed on me I like Hever the most. Practically I spend all the time there. And it is of no importance that once this castle belonged to Anne Boleyn. I know that she does not wish me evil. If I see her somewhere in one of the dark corridors, I shall smile at her. Like a sister. And she will smile in return. But the ghosts do not haunt me anymore.

The days wear on one after the other, calmly and quietly. I occupy my hours with reading, needlework or leisurely conversation with my ladies. Sometimes we allow ourselves to enjoy cards or a lovely music. Yes, I have learned to play the lute and harpsichord, only to compose a sonnet I am still unable to do. From time to time my former stepdaughters, Mary and Elizabeth, come to see me and we have a good time together. And besides I spend a lot of hours running my household. I honestly try to pay my attention to its every detail, after all, I still have a staff of servants and retainers, it's necessary to look after so many things!

On the whole, I can be satisfied with my new life here. Truth be told, everything might have happened much worse. And whatever you say, this country has its advantages. Yes, after all my tribulations I have found a peace finally. I have absolutely nothing to complain. And this yearning which attacks me, well, the reason is of course the gloomy autumn weather, this endless rain and early twilight.

My thoughts again and again return to the royal court. I cannot stop thinking.

* * *

The king has sent me invitation for Christmas! And I have accepted it!

* * *

Just think, at this very time a year ago I was on the way to this country and indulged in a reverie what kind of life awaited me there. Now I cannot recollect my former hopes and expectations without a sad smile. The whole year has passed. The eternity. Perhaps, I could have become a good queen and even left my name in the annals of history. Perhaps, if everything would have turned out differently from the beginning… I regret nothing. I only want to find myself in the throne room of Whitehall as quickly as possible, my heart beats faster and faster with my each step forward.

I hear the herald proclaiming my name and enter the main hall of the palace. Everyone looks at me with curiosity (or is it just my imagination?), wonders how I will behave at my meeting with His Majesty and especially with his new wife. You need not worry, ladies and gentlemen, I am not a newcomer at court and know the rules of etiquette. Everything will go properly.

So here she is, Lady Katherine Howard. Queen Katherine. To my mind, there is nothing special in her. But the men are better judges, of course. My God, how nervous she is, how agitates herself that our acquaintance would be made without any troubles. And her husband seems to be a little uncomfortable as well. I encourage both of them by smiling and saying a few compliments. It does not cost me anything, and they will be pleased.

The king has long gone to bed, but Kathryn and I keep on sitting on the throne dais and chatting. I think she likes me. No doubt, she expected to meet an unpleasant prim dame who hardly spoke a few words in English and did not conceal a dislike for her. In addition, now when the courtiers have noticeably perked up after the king's leaving and become more boisterous, she need not care about the maintenance of her queenly manners. She even sits down on her husband's throne to talk to me with more convenience, what ingenuousness! And then we dance together. Why not? I am a private person now and can afford to relax a bit.

I look around once again. I know everybody here, all the nobility of the kingdom who has gathered in Whitehall today. All of them are familiar to me. There are Lady Mary and her Imperial Ambassador; they talk about something standing at the window. There is a smile on her lips and sadness in her eyes. Here you are, Your Grace the Duke of Suffolk. He looks years older after the last events. I am sure he still cannot believe the reality of what's happened. Of course, the Seymours are here as well, and all my ex-maids of honor, led by Lady Rochford always eager to serve. And the gentlemen of the King's chambers. And the members of the council. They are all present, all nobles of the realm, lords and ladies engaged in a struggle which is never destined to end. They are all here.

All, except one.

I think it's time for bed. Rather late, I can't help yawning.

* * *

I am dining with the king and queen in their chambers. We exchange jokes and Christmas presents. We are family, after all. What a merry girl she is, this Lady Katherine. It turns out to be so easy to gain her sympathy. After several hours spent in my company she already considers me as her best friend with whom she can share all her girlish secrets. She chatters without stopping, especially now, when we are left alone. At the time being she tells me about their journey to some manor and how they enjoyed themselves there.

"It was such a fun! My dear, you can't imagine. I nearly died of laughing. Dances the whole nights. There are such charming partners here at court, such funny boys, well, some of them, you see."

She winks at me. I fear in a moment she will offer me her services in arranging my acquaintance with some of these "funny boys".

"And when once in the morning I returned to my rooms and looked at the shoes, what would you think I found? They are down at heel! I had to throw them away. It's a pity, of course. But, I suppose, I can afford it, yes?"

She giggles.

"I have several rooms here allotted specially for my wardrobe, everything in the latest French fashion!"

Of course, who could doubt this.

"Lady Mary says that I am frivolous. But what she knows, this old maid! Reached twenty five and still unmarried. She simply envies me, that's all. – 'Some people may think that inappropriate in the King's consort'."

She mockingly imitates the stiff manners and pious tone of her interlocutor.

"The King's consort! What does it mean, I can't have some fun? But I'll put her in her place, you'll see."

So, I was right. They are not on good terms with each other, the king's new wife and his eldest daughter.

"Yes, I'll put her in her place, I promise. I am her Queen and stepmother, after all. She must respect me. I'll teach her a lesson."

But this girl cannot be angry with anyone for more than five minutes, whoever it was. Soon her thoughts turn to a more pleasant direction.

"The king adores me. He showers me with new gifts and jewels almost every day. I'll show them to you, just a moment. He says to me: "Katherine, all as you wish". Carries out my every caprice."

At last it occurs to her, with whom she is talking now.

"Lady Anne, you are not angry with me, are you? You agreed yourself…"

"Of course, not. I voluntarily relinquished my position as the King's consort since it was his desire. He is our lord, and it's our duty to serve and obey him."

"Yes, yes," - she says rather absently, - "but… Are you _seriously_ not angry with me?"

I smile from my heart and shake my head.

"Thank God. It's the only thing that bothered me a little."

She blissfully stretches herself and sighs from the feelings overwhelming her.

"I am the happiest woman in the world!"

I was absolutely sincere saying that. I have no bad feelings for her. Frankly speaking, I even like her, this girl in a royal mantle too large for her. She resembles a princess-doll with this crown and scepter. One clearly must have no heart to bear malice against this child. And the king seems to be keen on her, his new toy. Let God care of her henceforward.

* * *

I am preparing for my departure to Hever. Winter days are short, it would be better to go at dawn, I don't want the darkness to catch me on the road. Well, my visit can be considered as a success. I have demonstrated my goodwill, secured the favour of the king and his wife. Produced an impression at court. Maybe, I'll have to make use of it in the future. Yes, really, I enjoyed my sojourn here. Everybody was so kind and attentive to me, we made merry indeed. And this grief at heart, well, Christmas is over, after all. Of course, I could stay here for a day or two longer, but is it worth-while? All my belongings are already packed anyway. I can go for a walk while it is still daylight. No, it is likely to be snow, better stay inside.

"Madam?" Why does the maid look at me so sympathetically? "I am sorry, I thought… Are you well?"

"I have a slight cold in the head. It's nothing. Yesterday's walk. I'd rather go to bed earlier."

"In this case, I'll say that you don't receive visitors."

"What? Does anybody want to see me? No, I am not so ill. Let them come in."

The door opens, and my lord enters my rooms.


	11. Chapter 11

"Your Majes… I am sorry, Madam. I've come to present you my respects and…. and congratulate on Christmas."

"You are in time. Tomorrow you wouldn't find me here."

"How?.. Why?"

"I am leaving for Hever. The celebrations are over."

"Yes, yes, of course. Excuse me. I hope you had a good time."

"Everything was just wonderful. We all were merry."

"I am glad. Glad to hear it. And His Majesty, he…"

"Where have you been?"

No, obviously I'll go on asking him stupid questions. But now he even must not answer me.

"Where have you been… all that time?"

"At home, of course. With my son and daughter. Daughter-in-law, I mean. With Gregory and Elizabeth."

"At home?"

"Yes", he smiles at me. "Yes. It's Christmas, isn't it?"

Everything turns out to be so easy.

"I am going for a walk now. Maybe, your lordship will make me company?"

Again I speak before I can think.

* * *

We are walking along the paths of the palace gardens and talking.

"I thought for Christmas everybody came to Whitehall, to court."

"I spend all the year round here. Do I have right to a small holiday?"

"What is it, holiday?"

"A rest. After work."

"Oh, I see."

Work… Holiday... These words sound so strange to me.

"I think all my life is one big holiday."

He laughs.

"You are a lady. It's natural."

"Haven't you ever felt a desire," - I try to pick the exact words, - "to put an end to all this? Or do you enjoy balancing on the edge of the chasm all the time?"

"Very often. And I saw its bottom, you know it. But it's impossible. Everyone who has found himself here cannot be released."

"Nevertheless I managed to do so."

"Yes." There is a bit of amazement in his voice. Is it true that somebody does not wish to occupy such a high position? "Tell me honestly, do you not regret it?"

"No." I speak with absolute confidence. "When I think about the fear I was living in, no. Now I am free."

However, what does my freedom mean to me?

"In this case, you are a happy woman. But as for me… Everything is different."

"Do power and position matter so much to you? Tell honestly."

"They do. But it's not only that. How to explain it? This is my life."

"Intrigues?"

"Work. Parliamentary bills. Petitions. Negotiations with the envoys. Reforms. All these things which constitute the life of the state. I am used to do it."

"The arrangement of the royal marriages including?"

We both smile.

"Certainly. They are also the matters of state. And when I am busy with it I feel, how to put it, I feel my usefulness. That I am doing something necessary. And important. You understand."

Yes, I do. And now he is back to continue his work.

"But what about you? What are you doing now?"

Now, when I am free.

"Well, you said yourself I am a lady. Although I have large estates, it's necessary to run them."

"It requires a lot of time especially if to pay an attention to all the details."

"Yes, yes. I was going to say it myself. Can you read my thoughts?"

"I just know what I am talking about."

"Besides, the princesses often visit me. I study with them, especially with Elizabeth. She is so clever for her age."

"This young lady may surprise everybody eventually, mark my words."

"Mary is also very intelligent and well-educated. And she has a kind heart. Although sometimes she doesn't know how to show it."

I like my stepdaughters. But now I want to speak not about them.

"Why are you silent? Why do you not say anything? Do you want me to open what's lying in my heart? A woman cannot, must not start this conversation first."

We have long stopped. We are standing so close to each other.

"Don't you know who I am? What is my parentage? And my reputation?"

Why does he again lower his eyes as if being afraid to glance at me?

"Have a talk with anyone here at court. You will discover a lot of interesting things."

"I don't doubt it. But maybe I know something all your courtiers will not tell me? Something, you think, nobody must know."

Why does he not utter a word as if being unable to find the right one?

"At our last meeting I thought for a moment, I felt… I was mistaken. I am sorry."

I turn to go away. I don't want to look silly and miserable in his eyes. I don't want him to see ... my tears.

"Anne." So what it is to hear him calling my name. "Anne, I beg you. I want to ask you one thing. Don't leave tomorrow. I mean, is it necessary for you to go away? You can stay here longer, can't you?"

"Why?"

"Because here at court it's probably more interesting for you. You are His Majesty's sister. Many people may need your…" Was it something in my look that has made him stop? "Because I need you."

"_You_ need _me_?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. I need to see you, to look at you. To look as you walking down the palace galleries, as you sitting in the company of your ladies. To look as you smiling. And even if I can't see you I know that you are here, near me, under the same roof. All those months when you were away, when another woman occupied your place, your rightful place, it was… My thoughts were always with you."

And I could not stop thinking. He tells me about his feelings. Or about mine?

"How long do you need me?"

"Three years. Since that time as I have planned your marriage with His Majesty. When the king told me that he did not.., that he wanted to divorce you, I began thinking what I could do to make him change his mind, to save your union. I was thinking about it all the time. And I was looking at you. Until I realized that I could not think about anything else. You entered my life, Anne, and I even didn't notice how it happened. You became the part of my life, my best part. Finally the moment came when I couldn't deceive myself any longer. I wanted to keep your marriage safe for you. And for me. I was unable to lose you."

To lose the opportunity to watch me walking down the palace galleries. And sitting in the company of my ladies. Because it was the only thing he could afford. And while I was sitting there on my throne dais, he would never have shown his feeling.

"You saved my life. I know it. I can see the world only thanks to you. Never and in no way I can repay you."

"I ask nothing."

Except that you'll save me in return. Save me from the emptiness of my life, from the terrible loneliness, from despair into which I am slowly sinking. Because I also need to see you, to know that you are here, under the same roof as me. I looked around and saw the world thanks to you. I became strong thanks to you. One day you entered my life and I didn't even notice it. I know how to name what happened to me. Long before my birth people invented this word.

But I don't say any of it. Instead I repeat again. – "I ask nothing."

"Then, in that evening I thought that it was all over with me. So I allowed myself ... what I was not supposed to allow."

"And now you've come to your senses", - I smile bitterly.

"Now I see everything clear. Oh, Anne, if only all could have been different, if I were not who I am, with my past, with my enemies, if you were not the richest woman in the kingdom, if my heart had not died long ago."

"Thomas", I speak softly. "Why are you saying that? Why have you decided that your heart is dead? It has lived all these years, lived for her. And she has lived in you. But no one can imprison himself in a tomb while living, to give up any happiness, any hope."

He thoughtfully looks at me.

"They say we shall live until we are remembered."

"It means that she is alive. And if she loves, she will not demand such a sacrifice."

But he just shakes his head.

"You don't know me. And yet I ask you, think better of me. Even if you hear the other things. I ask nothing except this. It's impossible for me to get rid of my reputation. But I could not bear a thought that you might suspect that I wanted something from you, that I had some secret plan concerning you. What you have done for me can appreciate only those who stood at the threshold of death. But more often they don't return from there. How is it possible to beg for something else?"

Why does he say it? In a moment I shall lose him.

"Thomas, how do you not see, not understand that we will never forgive ourselves if we now lose each other? We will regret it all our lives, regret that once we had a chance and killed it. For what's sake? Excessive scrupulousness? Someone's opinion? Or the past we cannot change?"

"I shall never forgive myself only for one. If I fail to give you happiness."

"But haven't you said yourself that you need me? What is the happiness if not the realization that there exists someone who needs you? That you can give yourself to him. And I, I need you. I didn't have an idea hitherto that it could be possible to be in such a need of somebody. You haven't just become the part of my life. You have become my life."

We long are looking into each other's eyes. Now I can see his soul.

"Anna, you don't even understand what a woman you are! You are so different from all of them, from everyone. You are real. How has it happened that you've come here?"

"Is it you asking me about it? You?"

We both feel well from our laughter.

It has been snowing for a long time. But I notice it only now. I wrap myself up in the sleeves of my fur-coat.

"You are cold. Let's go back to the palace."

"Yes, a little." I answer. And add. "Embrace me. I allow."


	12. Chapter 12

William was furious when he learned that I was going to marry Thomas Cromwell. Although I was a thousand miles away from him, he still tried to control my life. He literally fumed and raged in his letters. "It's bad enough, sister, that you could not gain the King's liking and led the matter to that ridiculous divorce. But at least I had a right to assume that at your age you were able to listen to the voice of reason. In due course when this scandal is abated we would find you a suitable match among our cousins, sovereign princes of Germany. Yes, I admit that Lord Cromwell is an influential figure in that country but, God have mercy, he is just a commoner and, as I've been told, a very base-born". In another letter he sarcastically inquired about my new title so that he could know how to address me henceforward. Later on he conjectured that perhaps English climate had a bad effect on me from the outset and my disease has been progressing with a rapid speed now. And he crowned all his witty exercises with a solemn ban, resolute and decisive. Eventually I became sick and tired of all that and wrote my brother a letter in which I explained that though he could fail to notice it but I had long come of age and at the time being was not even his subject and that if he wanted to be on good terms with my husband and me he would put up with my decision.

William's anger did not matter much. There existed more serious problem – how to enlist the King's consent. Yes, he gave me his permission to remarry if I wished to do so, but it was half a year ago when his joy at the newfound freedom knew no limits. Over the months passed his mood might have changed radically. How would he now react on this news and especially on my choice? And, most importantly, how will it affect the fate of Thomas, his political career?

"It's necessary to settle it in such a way that this decision would be emanated from the king himself, that it would be his will," Thomas says to me. "If you want to get something from people, make your desire become their own without them even noticing it. It is the essence of the art of ruling."

"The art of manipulation, you wanted to say," I give some necessary corrections.

"Well, in politics they are practically one and the same things."

"Nevertheless explain me, please, why the king should desire our marriage."

"I think I'll manage to persuade His Majesty that this union will be to his benefit from all points of view."

Frankly speaking, I never comprehended how Thomas had done that, but precisely a month after our conversation, being at Hever, I received an official royal message ordering my arrival at court. And there in a solemn ceremony with the all decorum observed, in the presence of the nobility of the realm I married the Lord Privy Seal.

* * *

My husband tried to assure me that the king became disposed to our marriage on the basis of serious and deeply thought-out political considerations. However, I rather doubted that. In the end I extracted from him the actual reason.

"His Majesty is still angry with me that I, according to him of course, involved him into this wedlock and what's worse failed to deliver him from the unwanted marital bonds immediately. So now he, shall we say, he is eager to take his revenge."

"He wants you to take your own medicine, doesn't he?"

"Exactly. If you remember he has some strange opinion concerning your looks."

"You must not resent him that, Thomas. I suppose, we all are strange a bit."

"Don't _you_ resent him, Anne?"

"No," I smile reassuringly. "After all, he is a husband of my friend, don't forget it."

But I still think that there existed another reason. Maybe, Henry understood something during our conversation? Maybe, he felt his guilt towards me, even if he was unable to confess it to himself? But probably the explanation is much simpler. Being completely taken by his current young wife he didn't want to waste his time and attention to such trivial details and agreed to this marriage as he would have agreed to any other matter. Does it make a great difference really?

Of course, all the enemies of Thomas at court flew into a rage. As though it's not enough that this knave refused to go obediently to the Tower and by some inexplicable miracle escaped the destiny prepared for him! He went so far as to dare to wed the King's beloved sister, no more, no less to become related with His Majesty himself! The Duke of Suffolk seemed to be near having a stroke during the whole wedding ceremony, and honestly, if that had happened I wouldn't have been upset very much. And if somebody had reproached me for cruelty, I'd have answered that this gentleman got off easy for his desire to kill my husband!

* * *

There is one thing that troubles me all the time. I want to talk with Thomas when we shall be alone in our bedroom, though I don't know how to start it. But he reads it in my eyes. And before I can say something, he embraces me tenderly and pulls to himself. And says softly: "Don't think of what happened before. It was a dream. A bad dream. All shall be well. All always shall be well. I love you".

* * *

We lie in our bed nestling to each other, as if a little hypnotized by what's just happened between us. My husband, my _real_ husband kisses my hair and whispers: "It has been so long time". I know what he means. So long time he didn't hold somebody in his arms, didn't give his love and tenderness. But I never knew it. I still have a lot to learn. I stroke his hair, his neck, his back. I take his warmth. "I was supposed to feel the blow of an axe where now I feel your caress", he says all of a sudden. I stop shocked for a moment and then hug him more tightly. And whisper. "Never think of that. It was just a dream. A bad dream. All always shall be well. I love you".

My wish, I would lie here the whole eternity. But it's impossible. There will be a new day tomorrow, new worries, new concerns. If I understand at least something in my ex-husband, we will never have calm and untroubled existence. The court schemers will also hardly leave us in peace. Well, life is never easy, isn't it? But we'll cope with it. We'll overcome all the difficulties. How could it be otherwise? Suddenly I realize that I have pronounced this word several times. "We".

Reminiscence has just crossed my mind. Reminiscence of our first conversation and the reason for it. It is so funny that I can't help laughing. "What is it, my love?" - Thomas inquires with curiosity. But I go on until my eyes are filling with tears. I wipe them away and then, pulling myself together, answer him: "Well, lord Cromwell, perhaps now I'll soon discover that I am with child".

* * *

(So now you have probably guessed that I didn't like season 3 finale and in my fantasies I changed it. A little.

The idea of this couple came to me after reading nice stories by Pandora of Ithilien, Angel More and Vain x Life Poetess.

I thank everybody who read and reviewed my fic (and especially you, Anna Taure) for your lovely comments.)


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